you know when your brain is cramped to the point that all your ideas are to heavy? how-a-bout when you just have too much to say so you can't really say anything? this is the way i feel most of the time. i have little glimpses of this topic and that, this thought and that thought, but not anything coherent or worth the energy of moving my fingers across the keyboard or even picking up a pen.
it's something like: ZAP!-oh!... gone.
some would argue that " you need to do rough drafts", "just jot down what comes to mind"..."you'll probably make something out of the gibber-gabber someday". the truth is this is of no value to me, i move on, i have new thoughts and don't like to constantly sift thought old ones that seemed relevant, but no longer are. i live to dream new dreams, toy with current thoughts and not exist as if every thought that comes into my head is actually a sovereign work of art that needs to be written in permanent marker across some scrap of hard-to-find paper. i have written all my life, and sometimes i wish i hadn't. i have endless journals in which i wrote deep emotions on hello kitty paper, emotions such as crushes when i was 11 and heartbreaks and dreams. some i like to read, mostly i don't. i don't like the immaturity i used to pridefully expose on paper. now i keep that to myself. i hide weakness. i hide those worn diaries with hearts drawn and scribbled over time and time over. i hide the selfishness written on the pages, the thoughts that are just too embarrassing to even remember. i hide them in a box in my attic.
yet sifting through all the junk i sorted out in words- i find myself. i find me, just younger, bolder, my thoughts more black and white,with a belief in humankind, innocence...and i miss those things. and even if i don't want to, i hide those too, mostly just because it takes to much time to decipher my bad handwriting.
Preston at 18
1 year ago
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